Circularity
by tromana
Summary: Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. Romana learns the hard way, thanks to a certain Irving Braxiatel. Romana/Braxiatel


**Title:** Circularity  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters: **Romana I/Braxiatel. Some Romana II/Brax as well. And 'cameos' from the White Guardian, Flavia and Four.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary: **Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. Romana learns the hard way.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, you'd be looking forward to Romana/Doctor angsty fluff. YAY.

**Notes:** Just a warning, the ending gets fairly confusing. It's meant to be that way.

This was known for a very long while as CREEPY BRAX FIC. It is dedicated to sneakyangel, who wanted to something to cheer her up. So I write her a creepy Brax fic; it's what friends do. Also, ignores some of the Gallifrey canon.

**Circularity**

From time to time, the Matrix, the greatest repository of Time Lord experiences, is opened up to more than just the Lord President of Gallifrey. Most Time Lords cannot be bothered to take advantage of this massive influx of information. Mainly, those who do so are the political-types, looking to get that little closer to what is probably the highest office in the Universe, those contemplating becoming renegade or simply those with an agenda not quite understood by anyone else.

Irving Braxiatel fits quite easily into all these categories.

Braxiatel is rather pleased, no, delighted, that Romanadvoratrelundar has taken office and immediately opened up the Matrix for a brief period of time. Initially, he'd thought it touch and go whether she'd actually reach her full potential. Before she'd run off with that renegade, he'd known it would be certain. But upon her return (several hundred years later than she was meant to), looking so inconsolable and distant, chained up in one of the lower dungeons on Gallifrey, he'd thought it would never happen.

Still, the planet had seen sense. Her 'criminal record' reversed, and she might just be able to change them for the better. And then…

'Let's not get ahead of ourselves,' he mused. From earlier memories, plugging into the Matrix, so to speak, was not always the most pleasant of experiences. Sifting through memories, he soon found the time, place and indeed, Time Lord, he was looking for.

"_Doctor?"_

"_Hmm? Oh, Romana, it's you."_

"_Obviously," she retorted, "who else was it going to be?"_

"_K9?" He threw his scarf over his shoulder, whilst straightening up. _

"_We've landed. Earth again. Have you overridden the randomiser, because it seems to favour your favourite planet a lot?"_

"_We've landed?"_

The Doctor bounded out of the laboratory, pushing Romana roughly aside. As he ran towards the console room, she faintly heard him call out a 'where?'

_  
"Sometimes I don't know why I bother."_

_She wandered towards the console room at her own pace. Passing K9, charging in the hallway, she knelt down beside him and scratched him affectionately, knowing full well that it wasn't deemed 'necessary' by the small automaton._

"_Sometimes, K9, I wish I had never agreed to find the Key to Time with him," she sighed. "He never listens to me. Maybe I'd…"_

Well. He should really have known to expect that. The Doctor was awfully arrogant, hence the reason he adopted human pets to admire him. He had known at the time that Romana shouldn't have gone on such a journey. He stormed towards his TARDIS, knowing exactly what he needed to do. It wasn't as if he hadn't met past or future selves before. This was going to be quite, quite easy. For this self, at any rate. As for the other…

"What do you mean 'stop Romanadvoratrelundar from going off to find the Key to Time'?" Braxiatel sighed. "I mean the whole idea is absolutely preposterous. Not least the idea that anyone would go after such a powerful artefact."

"Not even the Black and White Guardians?"

"Well, there is that," Braxiatel replied. "But really, we can't do anything, can we? Meddling with Guardians, that's bigger than bending the rules to save works of art."

Braxiatel, the one from the latter time, sighed in agreement, "yes but I've seen Romana, the one who travelled with the Doctor. She regenerates for him and it doesn't get much better."

"Romana?"

"Yes, she adopts the diminutive because of him," Braxiatel supplied. "I've seen her jailed because of it. If it wasn't for Flavia's Presidency…"

"Flavia?" Braxiatel queried, "But she's a positively useless student. Especially compared to-"

"I know. So you should be grateful to her that all political prisoners are released upon the start of a President's term."

"So because of this search for the Key to Time, which I find, frankly ridiculous, Romanadvoratrelundar regenerates, is fairly unhappy and jailed."

"That's about it, yes."

"Well, we can't be having that, can we?"

"That's what I thought," Braxiatel agreed.

"I'll see what I can do."

Braxiatel almost twitched a smile. "That's all I can expect from myself."

Having received that visit from his earlier self, naturally, Braxiatel kept a closer eye on young Romanadvoratrelundar. Under her Academy training, she appeared to be blooming into a beautiful young woman and obviously incredibly intelligent. On numerous occasions, she sought advice based on her worries on her education as well as other students. Every time, he assured her that they were jealous and too juvenile to appreciate her.

On these occasions, he also took the opportunity to teach her about this rebel, the Doctor. He had hoped that he could colour her opinions against him, so that when the White Guardian apparently arrived, she would decline in favour of further study. This additional study left the poor child slightly bewildered. After all, what relevance to tribiphysics, her apparent favourite field of study, did Time Lord renegades have?

In a way, he was thoroughly relieved when he heard whisperings of the imminent arrival of a powerful being, most likely the White Guardian, on Gallifrey. He had been sceptical, but he should have known to believe himself. He wasn't entirely comfortable with this still. Whilst Romana was just one individual, it was still a major change to the time lines, especially because the Key to Time was involved.

So immersed in thought, he was, he barely noticed young Romana running towards him. The worry was obviously written across her face.

"…and, and what should I do, Tutor Braxiatel?"

"Slow down first, Romana."

"I do wonder where you picked up that strange diminutive from, Tutor."

"Does it bother you?"

"No," Romana replied as Braxiatel lead her towards his office.

Braxiatel's office at this time is significantly smaller than what it will become. Then again, at this time he is still a mere tutor. Romanadvoratrelundar perched carefully on the chair she normally sits on; his office is almost as familiar to her as her own rooms. Sighing heavily, Braxiatel sat opposite her and stared directly into her eyes. His glare would be enough to make the average Gallifreyan squirm, but Romana sits tall, proud and unflinching.

"The Lord President wishes me to accompany the Doctor in search for the 'Key to Time'," Romana stated, matter-of-factly.

"I knew this day would happen," Braxiatel muttered, "and you are unsure of what to do? Romanadvoratrelundar, that is very unlike you."

"I know," Romana replied. "That's the problem."

"So, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

"I… I fear it will be too dangerous. I've only just graduated, after all…"

"And with exceedingly good marks," Braxiatel remarked.

Romana blushed. "Thank you. Also, I was so looking forward to my post-graduate studies. But the Doctor would make an incredibly interesting thesis. A renegade must be such an interesting case of social maladjustment."

"I think you have answered your own question." Braxiatel handed Romana a drink. "Whilst the Doctor would make an interesting study, you have something far more intriguing to follow here, and he is socially maladjusted. You wouldn't just be coping with wherever the search takes you, but him too."

Romana frowned at his response; she was hoping that he would support the idea of her going along on this quest. It was an incredible opportunity for someone just out of the Academy. But still, tutor Braxiatel always looked for what was best for her. He always had been there for her.

"I know what you're thinking. You're the best in your year and certainly the most capable. I just believe it needs someone who has more experience."

"I suppose you're right," Romana sighed. "I suppose I better tell him."

"Good girl," Braxiatel smiled. "I will be here to read over your application for your thesis whenever you're reading."

"Yes," Romana replied. "And Tutor Braxiatel? Thank you."

Romana slammed down the 15,000 word thesis application on Braxiatel's desk with a little more force than necessary. Something at the back of her mind was incessantly telling her that this was all _wrong_. That she should be elsewhere. But, the only opportunity she had received to go elsewhere was with that reckless renegade that her tutor had told her about in great detail. Hearing the door slam shut behind her, she jumped as she found the President behind her.

"Romanadvoratrelundar…"

"Romana's fine, Lord President." She bobbed her head in courtesy.

"I see you're dropping off your thesis application for your tutor to proof-read?" He picked it up and started flicking through it, mildly interested. "Very good, very impressive."

Romana flushed slightly, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Now then, dear child, are you sure you made the right decision?"

"About the Key to Time?" she whispered, "well, Tutor Braxiatel believes…"

"No, no, my dear," he replied, smiling warmly at her. "I do not want the recycled beliefs of your Tutor. Respected as he is, I have heard them far too many times. What do you want?"

"I think…" she paused. Strange, how she was contemplating that offer and he suddenly appeared again. "I think I should continue with my studies." Romana didn't sound entirely confident in her response, but she had made a choice and wasn't going to let a moment's indecision reverse it.

"Very well," the President sighed heavily, and retreated out of Braxiatel's office. "I shall not ask you again."

"Thank you, Lord President," Romana murmured, not entirely sure what she was thanking him for.

Losing the heavy form of a Gallifreyan President, the White Guardian sighed. Sending anyone else to deal with this could, and would, be very dangerous. He had single-minded selected Romanadvoratrelundar out for her precise attributes. And now he had to find another Time Lord, because only the Doctor's own race seemed to be able to have any modicum of control over him. Another young graduate was approaching him. He looked shy, nervous and was probably of the same class year as Romana, although a completely different class to her pedigree.

"Ah, young fellow?"

The young Time Lord, thrilled at the offer to escape Gallifrey and his obviously deadpan future, jumped at the chance. Whatever had happened on the planet, the White Guardian was not best pleased. Still, he couldn't go kidnapping innocent young Time Lords against their own will and forcing them to work with someone of the Doctor's nature.

Romana's ascension up the political ladder was overwhelmingly easy. With an intelligent mind, honed by years of post-graduate study, it was always inevitable. Despite this, it was a tumultuous time to be within the High Council. Whispers had been reaching Gallifrey about the destruction of planets that should be surviving for millions more years, megalomaniacs taking over others and even the presence of Reapers in some parts of the Universe. And Romana couldn't avoid that tiny itch in the back of her head that it was all something to do with her.

"Cardinal… Cardinal Romana?"

"What? Yes?"

The messenger flinched at Romana's snapping. She hated dealing with members of the High Council, and often wished she had never chosen such a job for her career path. Cardinal Romanadvoratrelundar wasn't the worst to be dealing with, but when busy, which she always seemed to be, she certainly wasn't the best.

"Cardinal Braxiatel wishes to speak with you in his office, Ma'am."

"Right. Thank you… I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Flavia," she replied, quite nervously.

"Well, thank you, Flavia," Romana paused to look at the document she was working on. "I will go see him immediately."

Flavia bobbed her head in goodbye. There was something strange about her. Some kind of untapped potential, or that she was meant to be something greater than she'd turned out to be. Then again, it's not hard to be greater than a glorified messenger for the High Council. Still, Romana gathered her thoughts and headed towards her old tutor's office.

Braxiatel's office was as warm and inviting as ever. When he transferred from education to politics, much of his belongings travelled with him, including a strange Earth painting of a woman with no eyebrows. When Romana had pointed out this blatantly obvious fact, Braxiatel had just laughed jovially and explained about Leonardo Da Vinci and how he had heard that Paris was in grave danger. Romana didn't much approve of his exploits, but didn't judge him and kept his secrets close to her hearts.

"Thank you for coming so soon, Romana." Braxiatel wore a misty-eyed expression as he gazed at her. "I know you're so very busy these days."

He touched a hand to her shoulder, still smiling in a grandfatherly fashion. After all, he was rather proud of Romana and the way he had so carefully fashioned her from impetuous youth to responsible adult. It's also not often that a tutor can see a student far excel them in the manner that Romana had. And it was he, Braxiatel, who had the honour of breaking the good news to her.

Romana smiled. "You know I will always come when you ask, Braxiatel."

"Yet soon, it will be the other way around, of course," Braxiatel said. "You know our Lord President has been ill for quite some time?"

"Oh yes, and we all wish him well for a speedy and quick recovery."

"That may be so, but he's decided to step down. He believes Gallifrey needs a new, youthful leader."

"Braxiatel?"

"You, Romana."

Romana frowned. This was the kind of news that was meant to be discussed over a High Council meeting. Admittedly, due to the President's ill health, there hadn't been one for quite some time. Braxiatel, Valyes, Inquisitor Darkel and herself had been working fairly hard to keep things in order alongside the Celestial Intervention Agency. Especially with the additional strain that the news that Reapers were now descending upon Earth, in multiple time zones brought; the C.I.A. had never been busier. They also appeared to be travelling between Universes now, through a gap to what was commonly known as E-Space.

Still, the Presidency. It was all she ever wanted, wasn't it? How could she even be sure any more? Everyone knew the President was on his last regeneration, old, weakening… dying. All the High Council was dreaming that he would pass on that title to them, weren't they? Was she? Gallifrey was beginning to feel incredibly small again. Like it was almost strangling her, and she was desperate to get free, at least for a short while. She snapped from her reverie to see Braxiatel staring expectantly at her. Oh yes, she should really say something.

"Oh," she murmured, "what an honour."

"Indeed." Braxiatel placed a hand gently on top of hers. He stood up, quite suddenly. "So, Madame President?"

"Please, Braxiatel, not now," Romana muttered. "I have a headache, I'm returning to my quarters."

"Sleep well, then Romana."

Almost grudgingly, Romana accepted the highest office, with Braxiatel always hovering close by. The job didn't feel particularly different to what she had been doing but she was more reliant on Flavia, now. There was something strange about that girl; like she was meant to be more than she had become. She had to frequently dismiss this thought from her mind as she pored over various papers.

There had to be a link to the disasters happening across the Universe. The problem was just what it was. She heard the door click open, but didn't bother looking up from the papers on the destruction of Paris, that Braxiatel had warned her about years ago. She didn't have time for distractions; the answer seemed to be just out of reach, like she was grazing it with her fingertips.

Braxiatel coughed to gain her attention.

"What is it now, Braxiatel?" Romana sighed.

"You called for me, Madame President."

"I did?" She furrowed her brow, scrutinising him carefully. "Oh. Oh yes. The Doctor, can you tell me what you know of him? His latest activities and such?"

"The Doctor?" Braxiatel queried. "But why do you want to bother yourself over such trivial matters as one of Gallifrey's renegades?"

"Because we have gone over everything meticulously on Gallifrey time and time again!" Romana snapped. "We need to widen our search; I thought that would be obvious, Cardinal Braxiatel."

"I will gather together all I can, Romana."

"Thank you. And Braxiatel?"

"Yes, Romana?"

"I was contemplating regenerating…"

"Whatever would you like to do a thing like that for?"

"I don't know," Romana breathed. "It just feels like I should have by now."

"With due respect, Romana, I believe you have absolutely no need to."

Despite Braxiatel's assurances that she had no need to regenerate, in the little free time she had, Romana found herself scrutinising her image in a mirror. The woman walking through her dreams was rarely the haughty brunette she had been born, but a more regal, more easily amused blonde. But she had no point to regenerate (then again, in her dreams, she'd had little point either). How could she ever become so frivolous as to consider wasting a regeneration on little more than vanity?

It had taken Braxiatel a fair few hundred microspans to obtain the information his President desired. This was the first time he'd had any concern about following that lead to change time so severely from his elder self. He should have known that it would be too dangerous, and cause an inconceivable amount of damage. Then again, he knew he'd do anything to protect Romana from unnecessary anguish, of sorts. He tapped carefully on the door of her quarters, and at no response, entered anyway.

Half of him knew he should be concerned at the amount of time she was now spending staring in the mirror, but as she turned around, smiling brightly, all the worry dissipated. Like usual.

"Oh Romana," he sighed. "Not contemplating that ridiculous concept of regenerating on a whim again, are you?"

"If it was anyone other than you, Braxiatel, you know how I would have reacted." Romana sat behind her desk. "Now sit. What do you have to tell me?"

"Well, it appears that the Doctor has been missing for quite some time. Logically speaking, it seems that he died on Skaro, local date…"

Romana nodded absentmindedly, only half-listening to what Braxiatel was saying. Flicking through the sheets of information, she partially absorbed what information she could at first glance. When presented with an image of his most recent form, she made a kind-of strangulated sound. She recognised him, from her dreams. He was the one who sometimes accompanied the blonde-her.

"Romana?" Braxiatel asked, obviously worried. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes." She placed the papers hurriedly down, and smiled weakly at Braxiatel. "Absolutely fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Braxiatel, who was travelling with the Doctor when he died?"

"Just some Arcalian. He was in your year, I think. Only got a 57, I believe."

Romana suppressed a laugh that Braxiatel could remember the chapter, and even the grade, this poor soul got, yet couldn't recall his name. In a Universe like this, anything could have happened to him. When she had the time, she'd mention it to Narvin, and see if he could bring this sorry individual back to his home planet.

"I believe I saw him, just after I last spoke with the President last," Romana murmured. "As I submitted my thesis to you."

"You spoke to him a second time?"

"He tried to persuade me to leave. To travel with the Doctor again."

Romana dismissed Braxiatel and started pacing around her quarters again. Once more, that little something in the back of her mind started annoying her again. In her dreams, she travelled with the Doctor. His teeth, curls and ridiculous scarf were almost familiar. In reality, she was the youngest President on Gallifrey in millennia.

"President Romana!"

Romana spun around to see Flavia standing in front of her, twisting her hands nervously.

"Flavia!" Romana snapped. "What have I told you about not knocking?"

"I'm sorry, Madame President," she muttered, breathing heavily. "It's just I saw… its Inquisitor Darkel."

"What has she done now?"

"She hasn't done anything, she's gone. And I saw…"

"Don't tell me… a Reaper?"

"How did you know?"

"It's happening across multiple Universes, Flavia."

Romana encouraged Flavia to sit, suddenly very intrigued. It wasn't so much what she was muttering about, more the woman herself.

"Flavia, do you ever have dreams, that, I don't know, you should have become more than you are?"

"Doesn't everyone, Madame President?"

"No, you misunderstand me," Romana sighed heavily. Sometimes talking to Time Lords with less than a first was like getting blood out of a stone. "I mean do you actually dream it, when you're asleep?"

"I do. Sometimes. I, well," Flavia paused.

"Continue, please."

"I sometimes dream I am President. And that you have come back and are about to challenge me. But," Flavia paused. Romana nodded, indicating she should continue. "You've been away. You're shorter, blonde. And wear strange Earth clothing."

"Thank you Flavia, that will be all."

"But what about Inquisitor…"

"Don't worry. I'll deal with it."

As soon as Flavia was gone, she headed straight towards Braxiatel's office. All her thoughts were leading back to that moment when she had changed her mind about travelling with the Doctor. He, if anyone on this planet actually did, should have the answer. She turned to lock the door to her Presidential Suite and…

Found she was working frantically on a TARDIS, of sorts. Of course, everyone who was anyone on Gallifrey would find it an abomination. But still, it worked in E-Space and would hopefully work when they returned to N-Space. K9 had said that there would be a 60 probability that it would, and that was good enough for her.

She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder, called K9 into it and strode…

Down the corridor of a Reaper-addled Gallifrey. Something made Romana feel like she was living two lives at once, in some sort of circular manner. All she could think of was getting to Braxiatel, demanding some answers to see if she can patch together the full story and sort out what was happening not just on Gallifrey, but in the entire Universe.

Dejectedly, she agreed to return to Gallifrey under guard, provided that they would not harm K9. She knew exactly what was going to happen. She'd be trialled for numerous crimes, sentenced and her fate would be either a vaporisation or, if she was lucky, exiled. As the manacles were clasped firmly around her wrists in the Chancellery Guard's prison, her hearts sank. She never imagined her life would turn out this way. The door opened, permitting a visitor…

"Braxiatel."

Romana wore a slight smile as she strode into Braxiatel's office, after all he should have answered immediately. The expression was a thin veil for the anger simmering below the surface. She glanced around, and settled down to wait for him, fairly annoyed that he wasn't where she expected him to be. Tapping her foot against the floor, she glared at him as he walked through with another piece of artwork salvaged from a doomed civilisation.

"This is not the time to be worrying about works of art," Romana stated.

"I'm sorry Romana, but I just couldn't let it die," Braxiatel replied.

"I know, Brax," she replied softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "But I thought we were trying to concentrate on getting me into the Highest Office?"

"Yes, we are."

"And artwork has..."

"Absolutely nothing to do with what we're doing here."

Romana nodded slightly as he placed the portrait down behind the desk and took to his seat. She stared directly into his eyes. Chancellor Braxiatel, he always had a plan, was always doing something that no one else could quite understand. And here she was, the President, beginning to become fairly certain that he was the only one that could sort out this mess. She hated feeling so helpless.

"What is it Romana?"

"I can't believe it," Romana whispered. "When you first saw me, in that prison, I swore I was going to die."

"And now, President," Braxiatel smiled. "As you have always deserved."

"There's no need to be so obsequious," Romana replied. "We need to decide where to go next."

"Have you considered the opening of the Matrix?"

"I could get it over and done with, I suppose." Romana sat down carefully behind the desk in the highest office, what they had been working so hard towards. "Let it be done."

Braxiatel nodded resignedly at his President. No wonder they had called her the Ice Maiden in the Academy. She certainly hadn't lost any of that steely manner through her years of study, and a good job too.

"So you mean to say that you changed time because your former self told you to? You know how many laws of time that's breaking," Romana sighed heavily. "No wonder we're having so many problems. A paradox, Braxiatel."

"I know, I'm sorry. But I did it for you – for Gallifrey."

"Just, shut up Braxiatel. I hope it's been worth it. How Gallifrey has remained intact for so long, I have no idea."

Romana took a deep breath as she caught up with Braxiatel. Running through the halls, without the Presidential trimmings, she received quite a few scandalous stares. It seemed it was obviously inappropriate that for her to be seen in public without the symbols of her office. She caught her breath, briefly, before she caught up with Brax.

"Braxiatel! What are you doing?"

"Ah, Romana, I…"

"What have you seen in the Matrix?"

"Really, Romana, can't you…"

"Cardinal Braxiatel, what did you see in the Matrix? As your President," Romana breathed; she still hadn't got used to that title. "I demand that you tell me."

Braxiatel sighed as he described in detail to his President, his student, friend, work of art, how he had received that visit from himself requesting that he prevented Romana from leaving Gallifrey. Naturally, she wasn't fazed by the fact that he had meetings with previous and future selves – she'd known about it since she was in the academy.

What worried her most was that he was willing to change the time line based on a singular projection from the Matrix. One that he had entirely taken out of context.

"You've not travelled back in time, have you Braxiatel?"

"No," he replied, somewhat mournfully.

"Good." Romana summoned up a member of the C.I.A., Torvald or something. "Please take Braxiatel to your cells. I want him under guard at all times."

"Yes, my Lady."

"But Romana – the web of time…"

"I have a feeling that another self will manage to sort this out," she murmured. "There has to be a reason for those dreams."

Romana sighed as Brax was taken away by Torvald. She hadn't wanted to throw him under lock and key, after all the effort he had put in to achieving what they had after she returned from E-Space. But still, it seemed like that would be the only place where she would be able to talk to him without him persuading her of his point of view. His manner, sometimes, lead to her feeling slightly weak at the knees. Brax had always been around, after all.

Torvald was rather surprised to see his Lady President at the prison so soon. He'd barely shut the door on Cardinal Braxiatel, never mind started the paperwork on his arrest. Paperwork which was going to be fairly difficult; from what he could gather, Braxiatel had been arrested before committing a crime, which President Romana was being fairly ambiguous about.

"Braxiatel, we need to talk."

"Romana," Braxiatel started.

"You should refer to our Lady President as Madame President or President Romana," Torvald interjected, warningly.

"It's alright, Torvald."

"But Madame President…"

"Its fine, Torvald. You can leave us alone."

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Braxiatel continued. "There was no need to lock me up."

"I believe there is, Brax. How can I trust you not to go running off back in time?" Romana replied. "Even at my own request?"

"You know me too well, Madame President."

"So _why_ do you so desperately want to disrupt time?"

"You were unhappy."

Romana laughed. It was neither pretty nor elegant, and caused Torvald to jump at his workstation. Braxiatel, failing to see what was so funny, waited for her to calm down before he described in detail exactly what he had seen in the Matrix.

"Oh Brax," Romana smiled. "Those were some of the happiest days of my lives. Yes, the Doctor and I irritated each other from time to time, but I would never seriously wish to not want to have done it. If I had the chance to do it all over again, I would."

"I'm sorry, Romana, I…"

"Jumped at the chance to keep me for your own?" Romana suggested. "I'm not a possession, Brax. Nor a precious work of art. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but I need to work out my own path. To be the President that _I_ want to be, not the one you want. I have a responsibility" She turned and walked out of the prison, Torvald being quick to lock up after her. "Until you learn that, Cardinal, you will stay here."

With time restored, Romana took a deep breath. She now had a planet, and all it's dominions to run.

_Romana smiled indulgently at the Doctor as they walked through a surprisingly tranquil Cambridge. The Doctor had said it would be a while until Professor Chronotis would be expecting them. She linked an arm gently through his as they headed in no direction in particular. They were by the river; maybe some punting on the Cam would be nice?_

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Romana?"

"_I'm sorry we quarrelled earlier."__  
"I couldn't imagine my life any other way."__"You know, I resented the White Guardian placing you in my TARDIS." The Doctor helped her carefully into the punt he'd just hired. "Now, I couldn't imagine a better candidate."_

"Me too," he grinned.

**Finis.**


End file.
